


Forgive us our Trespasses

by littlehollyleaf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-19
Updated: 2009-10-19
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9139480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf/pseuds/littlehollyleaf
Summary: I guess you could call it a 5.06 coda. Castiel tracks down Jesse in Australia and the angel and antichrist have words (aka. Holly felt Castiel was missing out on the 'bonding with children' trope and strove to correct the injustice).





	

**Forgive us our Trespasses**

Castiel sat quietly in the corner of the hotel room, hands curled around the end flaps of his trench coat, which he'd pulled over his knees. Waiting.

There was an unpleasant churning sensation building in the pit of his stomach. Had been building there for weeks now actually. Fear, most likely - an emotion he had become altogether too accustomed to over the past year. Although there was some confusion there as well because this was... _heavier_ than his previous experience of the feeling. Duller too and certainly not as sharp or as paralysing as when he'd faced down Raphael with the Prophet. But somehow that made it worse because he couldn't shake it. Couldn't leave the cause and escape because he didn't know the cause. He'd just had to suffer this constant weight of not-quite-fear dragging him down until it had led him here.

And when the hotel room door swung open and the lights flickered on, Castiel was thankful for a moment that it had. Because the not-quite-fear jumped straight into actual, without a doubt, honest to god (and Castiel always was) fear, which at least promised to simplify things for a time.

What stepped through the door wasn't especially terrifying to look at. Just a small boy eating sweets from a brightly coloured bag. He was dressed in a loose white T-shirt, denim shorts and sandals to combat the humid climate of their current location and stood only a head above the door handle - he had to press a shoulder against the wood to shut it behind him.

Nevertheless, Castiel tensed in his chair, every instinct he possessed telling him to flee. But it seemed the heavy, not-quite-fear hadn't dispersed as much as he'd thought because it chose that moment to return with a vengeance and hold him in place.

The boy didn't see him at first, too engrossed in his sweets (he seemed to be seeking out specific colours), but it was only a matter of time before he looked up and spotted his unexpected, unwelcome even, visitor.

When he did his eyes grew wide as saucers and he jolted back against the door.

"I am not here to harm you," Castiel said quickly, jumping to his feet and lifting his hands in a pacifying gesture.

"You said that last time!" the boy accused and Castiel couldn't help but nod at the truth of the statement.

"Yes," he agreed, words coming out even more stilted than usual as the muscles in his body ( _his_ , would he ever get used to that?) refused to ease. "But this time I am not lying."

The boy's eyes narrowed, shock replaced by distrust, and Castiel spread his arms.

"You see I have no weapon."

There was a long and pregnant pause, then the boy nodded, expression softening just slightly.

"How did you find me?" he asked and Castiel was surprised how small his voice sounded in the surrounding quiet of the room (a family suite, much too big for a lone child).

"I have been watching your parents," Castiel answered. "They spoke often of your desire to visit this country because it has animals found nowhere else on Earth. I came and watched the zoos here and found you yesterday petting one of the large, jumping creatures."

The boy frowned.

"You mean... the kangaroos?" he asked, voice quivering.

Fearing he'd upset the child in some way Castiel nodded firmly several times.

"Yes," he agreed. "I followed you back here when you left, stayed until you left again this morning and came here to wait for your return." He spoke faster than he meant to, growing anxiety constricting his throat and denying him the necessary oxygen needed to form the words correctly.

The boy opened his mouth and Castiel flinched in anticipation of an angered response. It took him a few seconds to realise the delicate, high pitched sound escaping the boy's curved lips was laughter.

"You talk weird," he said, easing away from the door. "Did you really not know what a kangaroo was?"

Castiel blinked. He didn't know what he'd been expecting from this meeting, but questions about dumb animals definitely wasn't it.

"No."

"Didn't they teach you at school?"

"I did not attend any school. I have only been on this planet for just over a year."

"This planet?" the boy repeated, eyes growing wide again. He shuffled a little closer to the door handle, bag of sweets crinkling as he held them against his chest. "Are you...?" He lowered his voice. "Are you an _alien?_ "

Castiel titled his head, confusion somehow overpowering his fear in spite of everything.

"No. I am an angel."

The boy's eyebrows curved down and he considered this for a moment. Then he shook his head, lips pressing together.

"No you're not."

Castiel readied to contradict, but the boy spoke over him.

"Angels have big white wings and halos," he said. Then added, voice lowering. "And they _don't_ try and kill people."

It was the same misconception Dean had once voiced. A child's understanding. How strange, Castiel thought, that this creature should have something in common with the man he'd left Heaven for. That, despite what he was, he should look to angels as something benevolent.

"No," Castiel answered, his own voice softening as he found himself oddly reluctant to dispel the fiction. "We do not have halos and our wings are not white. Most of the time they are invisible to the human eye." He took a breath. "And we do kill. If we believe there is danger enough to warrant it."

The boy stood very still, dark lines breaking across the smooth, youthful skin of his brow.

"So that's..." he started, tentative. "That's what you thought I was? Dangerous?"

Castiel nodded.

"Yes."

The boy's eyes flicked up to him, deep hazel meeting deep blue, and any concept of 'child' Castiel had been holding before slipped away, because the soul burning through those eyes was far more than that of a child. Castiel held his breath.

The boy took a step forward and Castiel couldn't help it - he had no weapon, no power that could hope to match his opponent, no defence - he took an equal step back, legs scraping the chair behind him as he slid past it.

"He said you were confused, but it's more than that," the boy said, quiet and full of wonder, inhuman eyes sweeping between Castiel and the chair he'd just moved in his haste. "You're afraid of me,"

Castiel's eyes never left the boy's face.

"Yes."

Wide eyes looked up to him again but... something had changed. They were lighter. Almost... almost wet. The soul inside them shrinking and shaking.

"Why?" the boy asked. And his voice trembled again, but not with laughter this time.

Castiel furrowed his own brow, not understanding.

"Because I am an angel, and you are part demon," he answered obediently, although why the boy desired him to state the obvious he couldn't fathom.

The child stared at him for a moment, strangely lessened eyes shining. Then he sniffed and looked down at the bag in his hands, blinking hard.

"Oh," he muttered. "Right. So we're like, mortal enemies. Like Batman and the Joker."

"That is... one way of looking at it," Castiel replied. This was one human reference he understood - Dean had spent a great deal of time explaining the character of 'batman' during one of their Sam-less hunts together.

"So..." the boy started, lowering the sweets and looking up again. His eyes seemed sharper this time, although still far less powerful than they had been. "If you're not here to kill me, why are you here? Are... are Dean and Sam here too?" His face brightened for a second as he mentioned the younger Winchester. "Did they send you?"

"No, I am alone," Castiel said and a sharp pang coursed through him - the words had never seemed so true.

The boy lifted and dropped a shoulder - a gesture of confusion.

"Why?" he asked again.

"Because..." Castiel started, afraid to leave the child unanswered for long. But no answer came. Why _was_ he here? He couldn't hope to reason with this boy, not when Sam Winchester (whose greater mastery of the human language gave him far greater eloquence) had failed. He couldn't fight him, their last encounter had more than proved that. And in any case he didn't... he didn't feel comfortable trying to kill him anymore. He never had. "I..." he pressed, trying hard to squeeze his thoughts and unfamiliar emotions into the limited vocabulary available to him. "I have come to... regret... my actions. From before. And I... I needed... to find you..."

Castiel trailed off and pressed his lips together, frustrated at his human tongue's inability to express what he wanted it to and frightened his failure would anger the demon side of the being before him.

When he gathered the courage to risk meeting the boy's gaze again, however, there was no anger in his expression. Instead he was biting his lip, eyes scanning Castiel's face, thoughtful and curious.

The boy nodded.

"You feel bad," he said and Castiel found himself nodding back.

"Yes."

"I get it," the boy continued, the small flick of a smile touching the corner of his lips. "One time at school, my best friend Jake wouldn't share his model airplane with me and I got so mad I stole it and smashed it to pieces and made him cry." He looked down, shoulders shagging, and Castiel was shocked to recognise the heavy weight he'd been living under the last few weeks. "I felt really bad after that. Like I wanted to cry too, for days and days. Then my dad told me it was because I knew I'd done something wrong and I had to go to Jake and make it right." He raised his head and the weight dropped away and Castiel envied him the power to banish it so easily. "That must be why you're here. To make the wrong you did right."

Castiel faltered for a moment, because a demon should not be able to speak to an angel so keenly. And yet this child was.

"Yes," Castiel finally agreed. "It is."

The child nodded again.

"Okay," he said. He took another step forward, then put his hands, along with the bag of sweets, behind his back and stood still, watching Castiel expectantly. Castiel blinked back at him. "Well go ahead," the boy pressed.

Castiel shook his head, no longer frightened but desperate. _Yearning_.

"How?" he asked. "How do I make it right?"

The boy grinned.

"You really don't know anything, do you?" he said, but continued (thankfully) before Castiel had time to think of an answer. "You have to apologise. Like I did to Jake..." His eyes grew distance for a moment. "And then I helped him make a _new_ airplane, but you didn't break anything so you won't have to do that."

His eyes re-focused and grew expectant again and Castiel stared at him in wonder this time. Apologise? Of course. The not-quite-fear wasn't fear at all, it was _guilt_. How had he not realised? He'd known it before, back when he'd still been working for Zachariah, tricking Dean and Sam into breaking the final seal. Letting Sam out of the panic room his brother and Bobby Singer had confined him to for the younger man's protection. Letting the other angels capture Anna... These last few short months had been ripe with guilt, how had he not known it when it came again?

It didn't take Castiel long to grasp the answer - the boy was a demon. And angels should not feel guilty for trying to kill demons.

But Castiel... Castiel _did_.

He looked again at the boy and saw him for what he'd been seeing him as, deep down, all along. _A boy_. Powerful and potentially dangerous, but a boy nonetheless. With short, dark hair (growing unruly without a mother's care), eager eyes and soft, fragile skin. At his heart he was no different to the children Castiel had watched and loved with Dean, seen from a distance on a park bench opposite a playground after the killing of Samhain.

Yes. He should apologise. Demon or not, the killing of such an innocent would have been a heinous crime. A sin. And Castiel felt certain _his_ father would want him to make this right, just as the boy's father had wanted him to atone for his wrong.

"I -" he started, but the boy cut him off.

"You have to mean it," he instructed, pointing a finger, expression turning stern. "It won't work if you don't mean it."

Castiel nodded. There was a ritual for this, he should follow it.

So, although his whole being screamed at him to get away, Castiel stepped forward and knelt down. This brought him face-to-face with the boy, bent body almost level with the other's standing one. Castiel held his gaze.

"Jesse," he said slowly. "I am sorry that I tried to kill you."

Silence. Castiel waited with bated breath.

Then Jesse smiled and shrugged.

"Alright. I forgive you," he muttered, before turning away to retrieve the sweets from behind his back and resume his search through the bag for the colours he wanted.

And so Castiel received absolution from the antichrist.

The lightness that followed filled his whole body and left Castiel giddy. A smile snaked across his own face as well.

"Hey, you want one?" Jesse added, turning back and holding the bag out.

Castiel blinked, studied the bag for a moment, then shook his head.

"No," he answered. He thought for a moment, then followed up the answer with a "thank you."

Jesse shrugged again and chewed by himself for a while. As he did, Castiel realised his kneeling position had become redundant and pushed himself up.

"You said you saw my parents?" Jesse asked as Castiel finished brushing dust from the hem of his coat. The angel glanced up with a nod. "Are they okay?"

Jesse's face scrunched up, all his fear and anxiety on display in a way only a child would allow - such a contrast to the hidden and veiled emotions of the Winchesters and Dean in particular. Castiel felt a twist in his stomach he had no trouble identifying as sympathy.

"They are fine," he assured. "Wholly unharmed and well." Jesse sighed in relief. "Except..." Castiel added. Jesse tensed. "They miss you," Castiel finished, the fact seemed suddenly important.

The worry faded away but Jesse's face remained clouded.

"Yeah..." he breathed, turning to pace towards the king-size bed to his right. "I miss them too."

He pushed his hands, bag squashed by his right, against the quilt, jumped up and twisted round into a sitting position, legs dangling over the side. His bare knees and loose sandals made him look almost painfully young to the watching angel. _This_ was Lucifer's secret weapon? This child whose highest priorities were his love for his parents and the consumption of different coloured sweets? It occurred to Castiel then, for the first time, that his outcast brother's plan wasn't only dangerous and something to overcome, it _wasn't fair_. For those intended to carry it out as much as those Lucifer intended to oppose.

"It _was_ kinda cool at first," Jesse continued and Castiel listened attentively. "Being completely on my own." He grinned then - small, pearly white teeth glinting in the overhead light. "I can do anything I want, you know."

A slight shiver ran up Castiel's spine at the words as he realised Jesse meant them literally. They reminded Castiel exactly what the boy was and what he was capable of, and despite what they'd just shared the idea of Jesse learning to control that power was still terrifying.

"I know," Castiel said quietly.

Then Jesse dispelled all the angel's tension and fear completely by dropping his eyes to his swinging feet, face falling, smile lost. Just a child.

"But..." he muttered. "I can't make friends. They always ask too many questions, like, where are my parents? And why aren't I in school? And where do I live? And sometimes..." He bit his lip. "Sometimes I do things... and it scares people." He looked up and his eyes were shining again. "I don't mean it," he pleaded. "Like all those people back home - I didn't mean to hurt them! But people don't understand..." He sucked in a breath through his nose. "It's lonely. Being the only one like you."

Castiel thought about how it had felt slamming his blood soaked hand against the symbol of banishment the night of Lilith's death, sending Zachariah, along with the words and love and presence of all his brothers and sisters, away. He thought about his return from death and the... differences, it had brought with it. He thought about Raphael's promise to track him down. He thought about his quest for god - a quest that no one else, not even Dean for all his support, believed in.

"Yes it is," he said softly.

They were quiet for a bit after that. Antichrist and angel.

Then Jesse sniffed, wiped his nose with the back of his hand and asked,

"What's your name?"

"Castiel," Castiel replied.

Another smile broke out on Jesse's face and Castiel was surprised to feel a flicker of joy inside himself at the sight.

"Wow, you really aren't human, huh?" Jesse grinned. "No one normal would have a name like that."

Castiel tilted his head. He'd never given the matter much thought, but now he did he realised that in human terms the name must seem quite unique. Zachariah and Raphael were at least not unknown among certain human cultures.

He was just about to explain that Dean, along with half of the Host now since it had lent itself so well, called him 'Cas,' when a high-pitched bleeping erupted from his coat pocket.

Castiel reached for the phone instinctively, but paused before raising it to his ear.

"Sorry," he said, the word slipping easily, naturally, from his lips this time.

Jesse flattened his mouth in a way the angel had learnt from Dean meant indifference, so Castiel answered the call without fear. Dean's voice floated through the speaker, listing an address and requesting help.

"I'll be there shortly," Castiel promised, ending the call and slipping the phone back in his pocket.

"That was Dean?" Jesse asked, discarding the sweets and rocking forward, the balls of his hands pressed into the quilt to hold him in place.

"Yes."

"He's your friend."

Castiel hesitated just for a second.

"Yes."

Jesse sucked in his bottom lip, thinking, and Castiel waited for him to continue. Dean's request hadn't sounded urgent - the brothers could wait a few minutes longer.

"He lied to me," Jesse continued eventually. "He said I was a superhero."

Castiel dipped his head forward in response.

"He was also afraid," he explained, voice soft, and was gratified to see the brief flicker of distrust in Jesse's eyes fade away.

"Sam told me the truth," Jesse pressed. "Is he afraid too?"

"Sam..." Castiel started, eyes drifting away as he recalled the harsh words he and the younger Winchester had exchanged about how to deal with Jesse. Sam's solution had proven right, in the end. Castiel had always been so focused on Dean he'd barely noticed his brother. Sam was 'the boy with demon blood,' and now 'the man who started the apocalypse.' But perhaps there was more to him than Castiel had realised - just as he had found more to Dean, just as this meeting had shown him there was more to Jesse. Castiel shook his head. Humanity was so much more complex than Heaven, something that made it both beautiful and terrible. "Sam's fears are different," he concluded, turning back to the boy. "You and he... have much in common."

Jesse made a humming noise and twisted his lips in thought.

Then, when his eyes caught Castiel's again his lips parted and his gaze filled with concern.

"You look sad again, like when I first came in," he said, making Castiel, who'd been unaware of his expression, blink in surprise. "Is Sam _not_ your friend?"

Castiel hesitated longer this time and it seemed his silence was answer enough.

"Maybe you need to apologise to him, too," Jesse suggested and Castiel felt his earlier sense of wonder return. If he hadn't known better he would have believed this boy wasn't demon spawn at all but rather something divine.

"Perhaps," he acknowledged.

Jesse nodded back and shuffled a bit where he sat, displaying a typical child's inability to stay still.

"So. You gonna go back to them? Help them... kill other demons and stuff?"

"Yes," Castiel nodded.

A brief flash of panic crossed Jesse's face.

"You won't try and make _me_ will you?" he asked, hands curling into fists. "I left because I don't wanna fight."

The hotel lights above them flickered on and off and Castiel glanced up at them. He knew the change was Jesse's doing. Knew it was affecting not only the lights in the room but the whole hotel, the whole state.

He was surprised by his lack of concern.

"No," he said calmly, meeting Jesse's frightened gaze. "I am not here to try and make you do anything."

Jesse relaxed and the lights returned to normal.

"Okay."

Castiel tilted his head and studied the boy a moment longer - the way his feet didn't reach the ground and how the vast expanse of bed at his back seemed to swamp him. Castiel knew this was probably the most powerful creature on the planet, a match, even, for Lucifer - but just then he looked... vulnerable. And Castiel found himself loathe to leave.

But Dean needed him. Sam needed him. He had to go.

"Goodbye, Jesse."

"Castiel!" Jesse called as the angel raised his head, readying to fly, the name slightly disjointed as the boy's childish tongue worked at forming the syllables for the first time. Castiel stopped and focused back to him at once. "I'm... I'm staying here for a while. So... if you maybe wanna come back some time... that's cool."

Castiel watched as Jesse turned away, biting his lip and fighting to keep his face straight. An act to try and hide the hope in his eyes, to pretend he didn't care about Castiel's answer, didn't feel the ache of loneliness eating away at him day after day every second he wasn't with his family. The same ache Castiel had been feeling every second since his rebellion.

"I would like that," Castiel said slowly.

The youthful, unhindered joy of the half-demon's smile stayed with the angel as he left.

 

~ **fin** ~


End file.
